


smeared black ink

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:29:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3232901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin seems so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex.</p><p>based on the district sleeps alone tonight by the postal service.</p>
            </blockquote>





	smeared black ink

**Author's Note:**

> uh this fic is dedicated to alex  
> pls leave comments  
> ye

The sound of the apartment buzzer startles Gavin. He's settled next to Ray, a friend he made at GameStop a few weeks prior. When the shrill sounding echo finally fades away, Ray pauses the game and pushes Gavin off his own couch with his foot.

 

"Either that's the pizza or the hookers," Ray teases, trying to ignore how suddenly nervous Gavin looks. "Go get the door. I'll wait."

 

Gavin laughs in response. But it's empty and nervous. As he walks to the door through the narrow hallway, he has to pass by framed photographs himself and friends from back in Austin. In several, a figure is scribbled over with Sharpie until they're unrecognizable to anyone but Gavin. He lifts the receiver and presses it against his ear, swallowing a hard lump in his throat. " 'ello?"

 

"Um... Hey. Can I come in?"

 

His suspicions proven correct, Gavin gives a resigned sigh and presses the buzzer, throwing down the receiver like it's a poisonous spider. "Hey, Ray?"

 

Ray answers, in falsetto, from the kitchen. "Yes dear? Do you want a foot massage?"

 

"Hey, I'm bisexual and right now my ex boyfriend is coming up the elevator to talk to me and you need to get the hell out of this gaff," Gavin says in a rush, poking his head into the kitchen.

 

Ray's holding a diet Coke and looking awkward. "Oh, okay. Call me and tell me how it goes. I'm just gonna... Yeah." He slips past Gavin's lanky frame and out the front door, still holding the diet Coke and running his hands anxiously over it.

 

In the hallway, once the door has been shut behind him, Ray narrowly avoids bumping into a nauseous looking auburn haired man. He idly glances over the guy's video game tattoos and guesses that this is the man of the hour.

Michael raises his eyebrows when he notices a presumably Puerto Rican man eyeing him up. The diet Coke clutching young adult offers him a shrug and a barely audible laugh.

 

Thirty seconds later, Gavin rips open the door as soon as Michael's fist meets the wood. Michael offers a hopeful smile, opening his arms and Gavin presses his lips together, shaking his head and opening the door wider. "C-come in. It's a bit of a bit of a mess, buh-ut..."

 

Michael would jokingly comment on Gavin's stuttering, but decides to just walk in. He sets down the cloth bag on the couch and stands there awkwardly, having noticed the paused video game and purple Twitch jacket left on the floor.

 

"You have to stop calling me," Gavin says carefully. He's breaking the silence after a few moments. "Four AM is not... A good time to talk on the phone, Michael."

 

Michael just tugs a few things out of the tote bag. "I brought you your charger. Even though you said you bought a new one and not to bother. And Griffin made some cookies and they're in here." He taps the Tupperware container with a shaking hand. "There's also a few shirts you left in here."

 

"I said you didn't have to bring them for a reason, Mi–"

 

"I love you, Gavin."

 

Gavin wearily eyes the VISITOR sticker on Michael's hoodie. He rubs his eyes, then shakes his head. "You have to go. This won't work. I live here now. Not in Austin. You spent what, 300 dollars on a flight here? For what? So we could date again?"

 

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there when you needed me. I'm sorry I–" his voice suddenly lowers, as he messes with the Minecraft diamond necklace around his neck. "I'm sorry I didn't rush off to England when Dan died in Afghanistan. I'm sorry, but fuck! I didn't kill him!"

 

"Get out," Gavin says hoarsely, his voice void of emotion. "Get out, Michael. I'll call security. Leave. Go home."

 

Michael stumbles backwards, dropping the contents of the bag all over the floor as he flees out the front door, knocking over things in his rush. He can't look at Gavin's face anymore.

 

Gavin feels the same. As the front door slams, he notices Michael bumped a picture of them off the wall. He peels the developed photo out of the frame and licks his thumb, rubbing it over the Sharpie marks. It's hopeless, so he throws the frame at the closed door. Staring at the broken glass on the floor, Gavin curls up on the carpet and stares at the glass, softly reflecting sunlight until it turns red, the back lights from the cars on the busy New York street below illuminating his apartment for moments at a time.


End file.
